Black Days
by Mokora
Summary: It's a normal time for Roger Smith and Dorothy, until a tragedy befalls them, and Roger begins to realize what a prize he really has... But is it too late?
1. Storm

DISCLAIMER*** Ok, ppl, I hafta say this… I DON'T OWN BIG O! Never did, never will. I'm just a rabid fan who enjoys writing because I have no life. Thank you. *bows*  
  
Chapter 1 --- Storm  
  
The sky was a dusty grey-blue, rain pouring from its dark clouds. Occasionally, a strip of golden lightning would strike the steel buildings of Paradigm City. What seemed to be an average teenage girl could be seen perched atop the ledge of a tall building. From inside the safety of that building, a man watched through foggy windows, thinking to himself. 'Why does she stand out there in this kind of weather?' He asked himself. 'Why doesn't she come inside instead?' Yes, this girl was very unpredictable and undoubtedly the most complicated person that ever lived... Well, she wasn't really a person anyway... She was an android, but you'd never guess just by looking at her.  
  
Rain soaked through her ebony dress, her hair matted and sticking to the sides of her face. Her eyes were empty and wondrous, though her skin was ghostly white. She took in a huge breath of crisp rain air, exhaling slowly. The rain was comforting. Storms were soothing to her. Even the thunder's roaring was comforting. She bent down gracefully and sat, her legs dangling over the ledge, somewhat dangerously. It was obvious that she wasn't afraid of falling. How could she be? She was just a well built robot after all. The man that watched her had had enough. He opened the door and walked out into the storm.  
  
"Dorothy!" He called. She turned her head, her face emotionless. "What're you doing?! This is a dangerous storm!" He said, fighting the wind in order to take a few steps forward. "I like storms. You know that, Roger Smith." Se said matter-of-factly, her voice toneless. He stood beside her, shielding his face from the unbearable rain and wind. "How can you stand it out here?!" He questioned through gritted teeth. "I told you. I like storms." She replied blankly. He sighed. It was hopeless. He turned and gratefully went inside. Dorothy just sat there while the wind enveloped her, the rain still falling as if endlessly.  
  
It was late. Very late. Roger tossed and turned in his large black bed. The sound of rain pelting the roof and windows, the thunder, the sound of lightning splitting the air as it struck was so very uncomforting. How could Dorothy stand it?! She was just so... odd. Whatever normal people did, she did the exact opposite, and it was frustrating. He opened his eyes, letting out a small huffy sigh. "Sleep just doesn't come easy these days..." He grumbled, sitting up and rubbing his scruffy black hair. The storm wasn't letting up at all. He cursed as a loud boom of thunder made him jump. He gave a hopeless sigh. 'How can anybody sleep under these circumstances?!'  
  
Then a curious thought hit him... Was Dorothy still sitting out there? No... She couldn't be! That would be so stupid! Nobody was that ignorant! He trashed the thought and then realized that a nice cup of black coffee sounded perfect for such a cold and rainy night. He slowly crawled out of bed and stretched. "Hell, why not?" He asked aloud. "I've got nothing better to do..." So he migrated to the large kitchen, pulling a black mug down from a cabinet on the wall. The room radiated darkness. Everything in the Smith Household was black. It was a rule.  
  
He filled the cup with water, then proceeded to heat it and add spoonfuls of black coffee. He added a tiny bit of sugar, not wanting to tamper with the usually unbearable strong ness of the coffee itself. He took a sip, relaxing instantly. His shoulders slackened, his face a little less stern. He slipped into the living room where light was extremely scarce, the only exception being the flickering lightning outside. He looked out through the large window and about spilled his coffee all over himself. Dorothy was still sitting out there! He stood, wondering how she would be so clueless. He gave a quick glance to the clock. It was 2 in the morning. He shook his head in disbelief, draping his coat over his shoulders and emerging himself into the storm.  
  
***Well, that's the end of ch. 1! Gee, arentcha proud? You can leave reviews if ya want. They're much appreciated! ^^ I always loved the pairing of Dorothy and Roger, but prepare for a HUGE tragedy in about ch. 3 maybe… It's gonna be big… Just wait… 


	2. Black Butterfly

DISCLAIMER*** Ok, ppl, don't be stupid. God knows I don't own Big O, I just enjoy writing about it. Kapeesh?  
  
Chapter 2 --- Black Butterfly  
  
He was thankful the wind had died down quite a bit, though the rain was still fierce and utterly intolerable... At least in his case. He stood a few feet behind her, taking in the smell of rain, the city lights that lay in clusters that shone bright against the grey horizon. Buildings scraped the sky wherever he looked, occasionally a large billboard sign hanging from them. He then turned his attention to Dorothy, who seemed to have not noticed his arrival.  
  
He noticed that she was wearing her pajamas. 'Well, that's good...' He thought. 'At least she went inside to eat and change clothes...' He just stood there, only able to see Dorothy's back. But then... "You must like the sky tonight, Roger Smith..." Dorothy exclaimed suddenly, taking Roger by surprise. "W-Why's that?" He asked, shocked yet intrigued. "It's black." She replied, still emotionless. He gazed at her a moment. "Ya, it's nice..." He said finally, now looking at the sky. "Roger..." Dorothy said, her voice narrow and empty. "Ya?" He asked, slowly returning to reality. "You shouldn't be out here in this storm..." She said, sounding motherly. He closed his eyes, chuckling slightly. "Well, it was you who brought me out here." He replied. "How?" She asked, turning to face him for the first time since he'd arrived out on the balcony. He didn't know how to respond. He didn't know why he'd come out here. He just... did...  
  
"I didn't call you out here." She said blankly, though a hint of anxiousness could be found in her tone. He sighed, sitting down beside her, his legs grateful for the lack of standing. "I know you didn't." He said. "I came out here to..." He chased his mind for excuses, since there was no real explanation. "To see if the rain had stopped." He explained, trying to sound convincing. "Oh..." She said, a barely-visible hint of disappointment in her voice. He noticed this and glanced at her. Her face was pale, covered with rain. Her cherry-red hair was soaked, giving it a brownish tint. Her eyes were glassy and empty. You could never really tell what she was thinking, or if she was really thinking at all.  
  
At that second, a black butterfly fluttered down from the stormy sky and landed between Roger and Dorothy. Roger looked down in confusement. Where would a butterfly come from in this kind of weather?! Why would such a fragile creature live in such a big city? He watched it closely, noticing that Dorothy was watching it too. He reached down for it as Dorothy did also, their fingertips touching ever so slightly. He pulled his hand back in shock, her looking up at him with an empty gaze, then turning her attention back to the butterfly. She laid her hand down, the butterfly climbing onto it delicately. She raised it gently into the air and thrust it upward, watching intently as it took flight and disappeared into the rain. Roger was recovering from his wave of embarrassment, having touched Dorothy's hand for the first time ever. He then pondered what had just happened. It wasn't normal. Could it be some sort of warning? A sign of something? His mind ached. He needed sleep, though he knew it wouldn't come without a fight. Dorothy stood. "I'm going inside." She said, bounding gracefully through the large shadowy doors. Roger watched her intently. What was with her? She was so strange, yet something was so attractive about her… It wasn't the way she looked… Or the way she acted… He sighed, his mind screaming for rest. He crawled back into the large black bed, sleep claiming him at last.  
  
***Yes, the first hint at attraction! ^^ *Squee for RxD!* Well, the tragedy is coming… It'll shock ya! Please review! I'm always happy to know what you think! 


	3. Malevolent

DISCLAIMER*** If you're keeping up with the story, I think I've made it clear that I don't own Big O. You think that if I did I'd be writing fan fiction?! Heck no! I'd be making my fan fictions into realities and animating them! So, please continue, and don't lose sleep over this issue. Thanks.  
  
Chapter 3 --- Malevolent  
  
Her slender fingers bounced up and down upon the sleek black and white keys. The melody she played was upbeat and rather annoying, yet it radiated perfection and talent, almost to the point of being unhuman… Though that was understandable in her case. She was an android after all, and was built with 'perfection' in mind.  
  
The tune permeated the Smith Household, bringing the once-sleeping Roger into a rude awakening. He groaned in frustration, his irritation obvious. He slammed his bedroom door open, that look of pure annoyance he gave her every morning shining just as brilliantly as ever. What annoyed him even more was that she played that same song every morning to wake him, and, no matter how sincere his pleas, she never ceased to play it.   
  
"Dorothy!!!" He roared. She looked over. "Good Morning, Roger Smith." She said, ignoring his anger. He rubbed his forehead, grumbling, letting out hopeless little huffs. "You're breakfast is cold. I let you sleep five minutes later." Dorothy watched him as she spoke. He glared. "Oh great. Now it's cold…" He mumbled, striding into the dining room, now very much awake. He sat down in his chair, staring at the plate filled with bacon, eggs, toast, and hash browns in front of him… cold. He sighed. "Today's just not going to be my day!" He whined… But he really had no idea how bad it was going to be…  
  
Yes, Roger was off to work. He had to negotiate some case between two life-long rivals, and, just as he'd expected, his day had been going horrible. He'd fell out of his chair earlier, and in front of Dorothy and Norman too. Dorothy had thought the whole situation was comical, though Roger highly disagreed. He then attempted to make himself some coffee, forgetting the silver spoon in the cup and blowing up the microwave. He began to think that all his luck had run out, and maybe it had…  
  
Roger grabbed his sunglasses and put them on, grabbing his suitcase and preparing to head out the door. Dorothy walked in. She was wearing a nice black dress that he'd never seen before. "Dorothy! I've never seen you wear that before!" He exclaimed, pulling his sunglasses down to get a better look. She looked up at him. "I made it. I learned how to sew from your television." He bid her farewell and walked out of the door, making his way to the elevator and finally reaching the bottom floor.   
  
He stepped outside, and immediately, he knew something was wrong. Everything outside was completely still. There was no wind rustling the trees, no birds singing, no stray dogs roaming the sidewalks… Everything seemed… dead. He looked around, hearing strange little clicks. He began to decipher their distinct patterns and rhythms, and… it hit him. There was a bomb in his building.  
  
He wanted to run inside, though he reminded himself, 'That's a bomb! You can't go inside when it's about to blow!' He realized this and began to run the other way. Then, a horrible gut-wrenching thought came to mind. Dorothy was still inside, and so was Norman. His mind was immediately thrown into a flashback. He remembered the first day he'd met Dorothy. She'd asked him to be her bodyguard. What could he do?! The bomb had obviously been planted a few seconds before he'd gone outside, or else it would have already gone off. He'd never make it up to her in time anyway. She was on the 20th floor! "DOROTHY!" He shouted pitifully, hoping that, by some freak chance, she'd hear him. He heard a slightly louder click and his heart stopped.   
  
The whole building in front of him was demolished in an instant, flames and a cloud of black smoke filling the sky. The sound of burning metal on metal almost split his ear drums. The ground shook as if the earth were crumbling, the flames' wrath sending him flying back. He hit hard, though still conscious. The shock hadn't worn off yet. He instinctively ran to look for Dorothy, though he realized this was one job he couldn't accept. If he entered the mass of burning wreckage before him, it would most certain be death for him, and then he would have no way of saving her. He fell to his knees, the tragedy finally sinking in. He'd lost everything. His wealth, his shelter, and perhaps someone so precious to him that he might not ever see the situation truthfully. Sorrow turned to rage, rage turned to shock, all in an instant. He just gazed emptily at the embers, dancing malevolently before him, his eyes wide and unbelieving.  
  
***Ok, ok, that was the tragedy if you haven't already figured that out… =_= Gomenasai ppl, I just love making dramatic and angsty stories! It's much better than lovey-dovey fluff in my opinion. Please review, there's more to come in the next chapter! More secrets to be revealed, so stay tuned! 


	4. Memory Salvage

DISCLAIMER*** Arg, on every chapter, I hafta repeat myself… *sigh* I don't own Big O. There. I said it.  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
ALERT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!---- Ok, ok, I'm sorry people… I've realized how out-of-character Roger seems in this chapter… Ack, =_=, you gotta understand that I'm the kinda girl who enjoys writing dramatic romances, and I tend to sometimes warp the characters to my own view… GOMENASAI!!! *cries* So, in order to make up for my faults, I have revised it, trying ever so hard to stick to Roger's personality… Smooth, slick, charming, and sophisticated! P.S. If I ever do that again, please send me a review and tell me about it! Thanks!  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Chapter 4 --- Memory Salvage  
  
Major Dastun had arrived with a hoard of fire fighters and about 15 fire trucks. Half began to hose down the flames, while the rest submerged themselves into the wreckage to search for any sign of Dorothy or Norman. Roger sat on the edge of the curb across from his once brilliant and beautiful home. Why hadn't he suspected something like this would happen?! He was a negotiator, which left all people he'd previously negotiated with as suspects… But it could've been one of his most-hated rivals, like Beck or Shwarzwald… Or just an unpleased person he'd worked with, who might be legally insane… There were so many people that could be culprits… How could this be happening to him?! He remembered when he used to tell himself his life was great. He remembered the feeling of peace he'd experienced before… Everything was going so well… Now, people weren't attacking Paradigm City everyday… Monsters weren't emerging from the depths of lakes… Crime had died away, like an old fad, and Roger was left to lead a peaceful life… But he should have suspected that this tranquil time would have ended sometime, and even in such a destructive way. It was now obvious… Certain people couldn't live long without war and fighting…He pondered all of these thoughts, sinking into his mind where he was really alone.  
  
He then remembered the happy points in his life. He remembered Dorothy singing, wearing that bright red dress, and the time when Angel appeared at his household. He then he remembered Heaven's Day, when Dorothy had bought him that tie… He felt so bad for only wanting to give her something because he thought it was her birthday, instead of buying her something just because he cared… But he knew it was so unlike him to be so generous… What kind of a monster had he become? How could he have been so selfish?! How could he have been so foolish as to treat her like she was a burden?! At that moment, he hated himself.   
  
Everything worked out just as Roger expected such an accident would. He was left, small and cowardly, with nothing left for him in a world that was tainted, cold, and confused. He, Roger Smith, left alone… It was so foreign to everyone… No one would suspect such an ending!  
  
Dastun walked over, holding his hat in his hands sympathetically, his face showing pure sorrow. "Roger…" He said quietly. Roger looked up. Dastun cleared his throat. "They… They found Dorothy…" He said. Roger listened more intently, though he could only guess what Dastun was going to say. "She's almost totally dead… Her main circuit board has been severely damaged. She can barely talk. She's losing memory and power as we speak… We suspect her memory disk has been severely damaged… You're the only one left who can open it…" Roger stood without a word and made his way over to where Dorothy lay. Her mangled body was disfigured and broken. The fire fighters cleared way for Roger and left the scene temporarily, in order to give Roger some time to open her memory disk's slot.  
  
Dorothy's eyes were closed. Her skin was ripped in various places, revealing bare patches of disconnected and thrashed wires and cables. Roger look down at her in utter shock. She was still in there, but barely. The once opinionated and strong-hearted Dorothy was now losing everything she had before…  
  
She opened her eyes slightly, looking at him, still no expression to her pale face. "I-If I were…" She managed to say. Roger listened intently, ignoring the fire trucks' sirens and the shouts of the men putting out the fire. "If I were… H-Human…" She said again, this time, her voice sounding a little more distant. "W-Would you… have… loved me?" She asked, her voice shaky, the raw cables showing now beginning to spark. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists. It was all a nightmare. She wasn't asking him this. She wasn't lying there, slowly dying. His building wasn't burning and demolished… He'd wake up, glad to hear Dorothy's annoying song carrying through into his bedroom for once. He would walk into the Dining Room to a hot breakfast and thank Norman for making it. He'd then go to work and everything would be alright once more…  
  
The vision he pictured of the perfect life made him dread opening his eyes, because, deep down inside of himself, he knew that what was happening was real, and he couldn't change it now. He opened his eyes, Dorothy still lying there, tattered and slowly drifting away. He couldn't answer her, just like he never could. He didn't know. She wasn't human, and that split the unity of his answer. She coughed slightly, her arm sparking vigorously. He kneeled beside her.  
  
"Androids can feel emotions…" She said, her eyes dimming ever-so-slightly. It hurt to see her lying there, death hovering over her like the air around her, all because of him. It was, indeed, his fault that whoever had possession of the bomb planted it. He had made too many enemies, and they were probably basking in their own triumph right now, watching everything Roger cared for being whisked away from him in an instant.  
  
Roger took a big shaky breath, preparing himself for a spill of heart. "Dorothy…" He said quietly. "I… I know I never really told you how…" It was so hard, confessing such personal things he never dreamed he'd have to tell anyone… Dorothy gazed at him. She then cut him off. "Roger Smith…" She said, her voice dramatically hazy. "I-I… I want to be… h-human…" She said, her hands now trembling. "No, Dorothy! You don't want to be human!" Roger corrected forcefully, trying so hard to make her understand how much better it was for her, since she was an android. "But…" She said, her voice now dying away. Her body was so badly twisted that, yes, she could be restored, but it would take someone who could restore her perfectly… Even then, her memory would be lost because of the damaged memory disk and she'd come back with a totally different personality, with changes in hobbies and talents… This angered Roger. Everything was fine until the bomb went off!  
  
He knew he was running out of time. "I've got to get your memory disk and take it…" He said, pushing on the black headband in her hair, it opening automatically. "But you'll get it back…" He said, examining it, praying that the particles of the disk hadn't been shattered or damaged whatsoever. He stopped, suddenly feeling as if she wasn't listening anymore. Her eyes were dull and dead. Her face was unusually stale. Once her memory disk was removed, she seemed so dead… And maybe she really was… Her body was in bad enough condition to throw itself into permanent shutdown mode… But if Roger used the money he had in the bank to restore her to perfection and, by mercy of god, the disk could be salvaged, maybe everything would be alright again… He took off his black suit coat and draped it over her… It was the least he could do, having taken her thoughts for the time being…  
  
He returned to Dastun, handing him the disk carefully. Dastun sighed. "What're you gonna do?" He asked, watching Roger walk ahead of him. "I'm gonna get some money from the bank!" He said, turning and giving a little smirk. He had a strange feeling everything was going to be alright, and, being Roger Smith, he had to stand tall and not lose his place on the podium.  
  
***Ok, guys, this now leads new hope for the next chapter! ^^ So don't worry, k? And please tell me if Roger sounds more like himself! I need advice here! Arigato!! 


	5. Good Morning, Roger Smith

DISCLAIMER*** Ahem. First of all, you should have already memorized everything I've written here, considering I repeat myself on every chapter… And if you're just now tuning in to my fanfic on the 5th chapter, then just turn right around and start at 1, you hear me?! You'll be SO lost! I'm warnin' ya! (In other words, I don't own Big O.)  
  
Chapter 5 --- Good Morning, Roger Smith  
  
Roger was miserable. He had already bought a new building, using his cache of money in the bank. He had replenished every material possession he'd lost. He tried to make the rooms look exactly as they did before, in order to remember how the good life used to be. He often sat at the large black piano, and thought of Dorothy… What would become of her? He'd paid an extreme amount of money to restore Dorothy, and even more on top of that to scan and attempt to rescue the memory disk that was once safely tucked away in her head, hidden by a sleek black headband. He sighed, playing 'Mary had a Little Lamb' on the piano. It was all he knew. He remembered Dorothy's upbeat melody she'd play to wake him. As strange as it was, he missed it greatly. He wanted to walk into the living room and see Dorothy, perched upon the slick black bench, manipulating the piano keys in such a way that only an android could. He should have cherished what he had before, though he feared that it just might be too late for everyone.  
  
Norman was found dead. They suspected he'd died immediately, though Dorothy, being an android with excessive strength, managed to hold out longer… But for how long? The same question kept flooding his mind. Images of Dorothy filled his head. So many questions swamped him. He was left to fend for himself, and without anyone… He had never been truly lonely in his life… If he had, then he'd forgotten, since every memory he'd had had been erased from time a while before. Though, as everyone in Paradigm City regained their normal routines after often-occurring accidents, he found himself at a loss. Was it all those years of being pampered by Norman? Would he have to learn to cook now? Would he have to hire un-trusted workers to repair Big O? How would he know if they sabotaged it, and caused it to weaken in battle? After all, everyone could see that he was vulnerable. He was like a mouse in an acre of empty wasteland, where cats prepared to pounce at every chance they got. He'd never felt this way before. For once… Roger Smith was… Scared…  
  
His mind was lagging, his eyes drooping… He needed rest, physically and mentally. That day was truly one of his worst. He lounged around the living room all day, thinking. Every single image of Dorothy had been reposted in his mind at least once. It was true. Roger Smith might have actually been in love. No one would ever think a tightwad like him would ever find true love! No one would ever suspect such a foolish idea!  
  
Roger he crawled into bed, closing his eyes tightly, that sting of newborn tears threatening to cloud them. He would not cry! He was a sophisticated business man! He would never cry! He eventually felt the threat of tears slacken, and so he finally prepare to rest, trying as hard as he could to think about something… Anything… besides Dorothy… For now…  
  
It was morning. He had to return to work that day. He had to pick himself up from the dust in which he lay and carry on with life, like he and everyone else in Paradigm City had before. No one would cut him any slack… If only they knew what torment his brain was dealing with… But this world was so cruel that even the kindest soul would wring him of everything he cared for before they'd loosen up on him. That was just the way things worked.  
  
He was half awake, half of him still slumbering gratefully. A lilting sonata filled his mind, erasing all memories of the dreams he'd had the night before. He stopped, now inching into reality. He'd heard that sonata before… And it sounded close… Like… In the next room… He sat up so violently that his back throbbed, and he dashed from his bed, his hopes so foolishly high.  
  
He knew that sonata. It had been taught to Dorothy when he took her to see Instro at the bar! He stopped in the living room, overwhelmed at the sight his eyes gazed at, right before him. Her fingers moved lighter now, her concentration given totally to the rhythm of the key's music, her posture prim and ladylike. His jaw dropped slightly. She stopped playing and looked over at him. It was her! It was really her! She looked brand new and better than ever! Her skin was smooth and textured, as if a human's would. She was wearing a black dress he'd never seen before, supposing she'd made it herself at the Electronics Shop. It was pure lace over a satin slip with a wide slit up the side to her knee. Tiny black ribbons were tied delicately in her hair, a new black headband placed beautifully on top.  
  
"Good Morning, Roger Smith." She said, her voice sounding just as toneless as ever. "D-Dorothy!" He said, still amazed. She stood and began smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress, Roger dashing over and locking her into an embrace. He had never felt so relieved in his life. Dorothy, a look of shock coming over her, then fading, smiled for the first time in Roger's presence. Of course, by doing this, she was only mimicking people. She never really understood how a smile expressed happiness, yet she tried and found that a smile did make her feel a little warmer. She didn't know how to react at such an odd situation as this, though she gave it her all to act as human as she could.   
  
He released her, gazing down into her glassy eyes. "Why did you do that, Roger Smith?" She asked, looking at him curiously. He chuckled. Once again she was asking him questions he just couldn't answer. She had a way of doing that. "I'm happy to see you remember everything!" He said, knowing inside that that wasn't the half of it. She smiled again, a little awkwardly, but it was completely foreign to her. She would strive to act more human than ever. She looked around. "I suppose I should make your meals from now on." She said, and strode into the kitchen, the soft clanging of pots and pans reminding Roger of how it used to be. Although, maybe now, it was better. There was more time to spend with Dorothy alone and to get to know her better… Maybe they'd form some kind of relationship over time, but he wouldn't rush into it now. He needed some time to relax and settle into this new way of life. Justice would be brought to whoever had blown up his former residence, though, for now, all he wanted was just one peaceful evening, talking with Dorothy, eating a delicious meal, maybe even with a fire going. He sighed, smiling. Things were looking up. He'd kill whoever caused Norman's death and Dorothy's injuries, though not today.  
  
Dorothy walked in, still smiling. "What would you like as your main course, Roger Smith?" She asked. "Hmm…" He said, resting his chin in his hands. "Do we have a roast?" She nodded and walked back into the kitchen, more pots and pans clanging into each other, the sound of a sizzling grease now entering the atmosphere.  
  
Yes, these black days were the best days… You see, normally a black day would be a bad day, though, in Roger's peculiar case, it was an extremely pleasant day. He stretched out on the sofa, draping one leg over the other and resting his forearm over his face, closing his eyes. He then drifted off to sleep unknowingly. Dorothy entered the room, surprised to see him sleeping. She then smiled, every time feeling a little more natural. She went into her new room and grabbed Roger's coat off of her bed, thinking back to how she'd obtained it. She waltzed casually into the living room and over to the sofa where she lay the coat gently down over him. He didn't stir. She then returned to the kitchen and began to finish cooking his meal.  
  
***Ok, THE END!!! ^^ I hope you guys liked it! This is my first Big O fanfic, and I really tried to do good! Please review and tell me how you liked my story overall! I'm dying to know! Oh, and thanks a lot for reading!! I really appreciate you stickin with it! 


End file.
